


This one time, at lacrosse camp...

by annagarny



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Lacrosse Player Derek, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-23
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2017-12-27 10:33:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/977722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annagarny/pseuds/annagarny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The skinny kid who he’d been paired up with to run the clinics for the 8-to-10-year-olds was loud, and abrasive. The worst part was that the kids seemed to love him, and therefore ignored Derek and his (really quite reasonable) instructions and requests for decorum.</p><p>“Call me Stiles, dude!” just tossed him the goalie’s crosse, told him to stand near the goal and started tossing balls in his general direction, coaching the kids through their swings and stifling laughter when Derek proved exactly why he played offense and was kept out of the goal at all costs when he’d played with his home team back at school.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> Hoping to update this on Monday nights (Australian time). I'm about six chapters ahead of the curve so this will probably update more reliably than my other works, which are all freaking STUCK.  
> Anyway - ideas, input, etc - all hugely welcomed. Hit me up in the comments if you want to see something happen here!

This one time, at lacrosse camp...

Okay so it really didn’t start like that. In fact, when Derek first encountered Stiles his initial assessment was not, shall we say, favourable.

The skinny kid who he’d been paired up with to run the clinics for the 8-to-10-year-olds was loud, and abrasive. The worst part was that the kids seemed to love him, and therefore ignored Derek and his (really quite reasonable) instructions and requests for decorum.

“Call me Stiles, dude!” just tossed him the goalie’s crosse, told him to stand near the goal and started tossing balls in his general direction, coaching the kids through their swings and stifling laughter when Derek proved exactly why he played offense and was kept out of the goal at all costs when he’d played with his home team back at school. 

An hour later, when the pre-adolescents had scattered (it was amazing how fast they could move when the dinner bell rang, considering how sluggish their movements had been when running drills just two minutes earlier) Derek was helping Stiles clear up the equipment when the skinny guy started talking... again. Though, truth be told, Derek wasn’t entirely certain that he’d actually  _stopped_ talking for more than a few seconds at a time since they’d met.

“Hey, man, look, thanks for letting the kids get some shots in - I think you really improved their morale, if they can get a goal past a dude like you then their skills are pretty good, right?”

Derek stared at him for a moment, before his brow furrowed. He stepped back slightly, out of range of further claps on the shoulder from his enthusiastic co-coach.

“Yeah, sure.  _Let_ them.” he muttered, bundling the gear together and shouldering the bag, making his way towards the storage shed, attempting to ignore the guy trailing after him, continuing to heap praise on his ‘performance’ as a sub-par goalie. Stiles then continued to follow him as he headed for the mess hall himself, and somehow they ended up having dinner seated together, Stiles talking at Derek the whole time, undeterred by the monosyllabic responses he was getting over the sloppy joes and watery vegetables that passed for food.

Derek was really not surprised when he got up from his place in the mess hall, and began making his way to his cabin that night to find that Stiles was the guy who had arrived late and would be taking the bunk above him, the one that had been mercifully empty for the first two nights of camp. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, the name on the assignment sheet was something unpronounceable followed by the initial ‘S’.

It was just how his luck ran; the more annoying a person was, the more likely he would be paired up with them and forced to interact against his will. This was the reason he was always made to share a room with Laura at family events - she was the best at making his life hell, therefore he would be made to share her space while she snored or texted her friends all night then forced him to take the crappy mattress or sleep on the floor while she sprawled across the queen mattress.

Stiles, apparently, found this development extremely entertaining when he realised that ‘his Derek’ was ‘Derek H’, the other guy assigned to his cabin.

“Sweet, dude! We can work on coaching plans and shit after hours without having to sneak around!” he punched Derek in the arm, enthusiastic, while dragging his gear bag behind them towards the last cabin on the row.  
“Right.”  
“I mean, unless you were planning on sneaking out at night to visit your girlfriend on the other side of the lake...”  
“There is no lake here, Stiles.”  
“Okay, so, sneaking out to see your girlfriend on the other side of the woods, then. Or to call her from that one spot up on the ridge that actually gets cell service.”

Derek sighed, and figured he might as well answer the unasked question. 

“I don’t have a girlfriend.”  
“Really?” Incredulity was not the response he was expecting. Though Stiles did follow up pretty quickly with “Boyfriend?”, side-eyeing Derek as they walked towards their cabin in the dimming light.

“No boyfriend, either.” Derek informed him, skipping up the stairs and, without conscious thought, holding the door open for the man behind him. “What about you? Planning a late night run to call  _your_ lover?” He’d given up on monosyllables and decided to contribute to the conversation through sarcasm, realising that Stiles wouldn’t be deterred by much.

“If by lover you mean best friend then maybe, yeah. He’s working all summer at the clinic back home to get himself some extra credit before he goes back to vet school in the fall.”

Stiles hoisted himself up onto the top bunk, bypassing the ladder entirely, and sprawled himself out, propping his head up one one hand and letting the other dangle towards Derek.

“Though I’ll probably be lucky to even get answered, he kind of spends all his free time sneaking around with his girlfriend.”  
“Sneaking? What is he, seventeen?”  
“Nineteen, same as me. Dude, you seriously think my best friend would be a freaking high schooler?”  
“Until about three seconds ago I thought YOU were a freaking high schooler.” Derek informed him, laying flat on his own bunk and staring at the slats beneath Stiles.  
“What?” Stiles squawked, tipping himself over and hanging himself upside-down so that he could see Derek, one hand grasping the head of the bed to prevent what could be a rather nasty fall.

“You’re kind of scrawny.” Derek pointed out, and Stiles pouted at him, before sliding sideways and dropping to the floor, rooting through his duffel and emerging with a towel and wash bag.

“Dude, I am not scrawny. I’m a first-line lacrosse defender, and speaking of, I’m kind of sweaty. I’m going to take a shower.”  
“You have fun. Try not to think about your boyfriend boning his girlfriend while you’re in there, we have to share that bathroom.”  
“Snarky is not a good colour on you!” Stiles called through the door, turning the shower on and drowning out Derek’s reply.

“Yes it is! Brings out my eyes!”  
“I can’t hear you over the shower, Der-bear!”   
“Dammit, don’t call me that!” Derek shouted at him, louder this time.  
“Still can’t hear you!”  
“I’m going to put something horrible in your bed, Stiles.” He muttered to himself, turning on his side and facing the wall, trying, failing, to tune out Stiles’ off-key singing of a Kelly Clarkson song that Laura had made him listen to more often than he’d like to admit.


	2. ... then everything went to hell

Derek liked to get up and go for a run before the sun crested the horizon, and Stiles... didn’t. He groaned and objected, tossing his pillow at his roommate, when Derek opened the curtains and let the sunlight stream into the cabin when he returned.

“Unless you’ve got coffee, you need to go away, now.” Stiles muttered, pressing his face into the sheets and mourning the departure of his pillow, as he could no longer bury his head beneath it.

“I’m not going up to the mess hall for you.”  
“Why not? I’d do it for you!”  
“I don’t need coffee to be a functioning member of society.”  
“I don’t _need_ it, either. I’m just much more pleasant to deal with if it’s there.”  
“Still not walking over there without proper incentive.”  
“Would a blow job be proper incentive?” Stiles asked, face pressed into the sheets.

“Sexual favours for coffee? You are desperate, but I’ll pass today, we don’t have time. Get your lazy ass up and I might have a cup waiting for you when you get to the mess.”  
“I hate you.”   
“No, you don’t. Five minutes or I’ll switch it out for decaf.”  
“THREE SUGARS NO CREAM!” Stiles shouted after him as Derek left the cabin, making his way towards the mess hall.

“Yes, your majesty.” Derek muttered, rolling his eyes as he made his way towards the mess, calculating how long he’d have to take a shower after breakfast, before he and Stiles were supposed to meet the 8-to-10 year olds by the entrance to the preserve at 8AM, they had been assigned a ‘nature walk’ for the morning.

 Apparently the people running the camp were a bunch of sadists.

They’d managed to get the twelve kids in their group (The Alpha Pack they had named themselves, despite Derek’s protests on the first day of camp that there was only supposed to be one Alpha in a pack) into some semblance of order, Stiles armed with a map and compass, Derek with the backup map and compass, as well as written directions for where they were supposed to go. Stiles led the way at a jog, betting the kids that he could beat them all to the first checkpoint half a mile into the woods and was quickly overtaken on the path by the dozen pre-teens. He slowed down as Derek approached and they trailed after the kids at a somewhat leisurely pace, longer legs and better breathing techniques allowing them to almost relax as the kids scrambled through the underbrush ahead of them.

“So how long is this supposed to take?” Stiles asked, nodding his head at the laminated sheet of instructions that Derek had in one hand. 

“Only about an hour, there’s ten checkpoints and it’s only a two mile course. I could probably walk it in less than twenty minutes.”  
“Ugh, you’re one of those people who can run ten miles without breaking a sweat, aren’t you?” Stiles grumped.  
“I only ran five this morning and I’m going to have to wash those shorts.”  
“Yeah, good point, you were pretty ripe when you got back to the room. Hey, I meant to ask, why didn’t you shower before breakfast? Was that a conscious thing to deter people from sitting near you? Because it worked a treat - Jason was glaring at you the whole time you were using the toaster.”  
“Jason’s a douche.”  
“I know that, and it was hilarious watching him screw his nose up at you while you monopolised the toaster on him.”

Derek laughed at that, and Stiles smiled at him.

“You hadn’t showered yet, thought I’d let you wake yourself up with one while I got something to eat.”  
“Aw, you do care!” Stiles leaned over towards Derek, fluttering his eyelashes as Derek rolled his eyes.

“No, I just didn’t want to suffer through your pre-coffee complaining. Where are we going, now?” Derek pointed at the cluster of kids around the first fluorescent pink marker and Stiles consulted his map.

“Uh... that way!” he pointed off to the left. “Quarter mile, on the other side of the ridge! Go!”

The kids scattered. 

Following along at a more sedate pace, they continued to chat as they climbed over the narrow ridge  and headed down into a small valley. The kids were ahead of them, a few had sprinted ahead to search for the marker but most were in a cluster around something that had caught their interest on the forest floor.

“What have you found?” Stiles called out, and the group of kids went suspiciously still and quiet. A smaller one was pushed forward to provide an explanation while the rest remained stood shoulder-to-shoulder, blocking whatever it was from view.

“Um-” the camper paused and looked over his shoulder at the rest, and Stiles stepped forward, pushing past the clustered pre-teens. He inhaled sharply and turned to Derek, while pulling the kids away from whatever they were crowded around. 

“How fast can you run?”  
“What- why?”  
“Get back to camp, now. Tell them that we’ve got a serious situation and they need to call the police. Kids - kids!” Stiles shouted, and the boys who were almost at the pink flag about a hundred feet away stopped and looked at him.  
“Get back here, now, come with me.”

Derek stepped forward while Stiles kept pushing the kids away from the site and as soon as he saw what they had been crowding around he understood why. 

He took off back towards the camp at a sprint.


	3. relocation and conversation

“So what are we supposed to do for the rest of the summer?” Stiles asked through a mouthful of apple slice.

“What?” Derek looked up from his own dinner to find Stiles staring at him with his mouth open.

“Dude, we found a human skeleton and like three-quarters of the campers have been withdrawn thanks to the forest becoming a crime scene. There’s only five kids left of our group, and I’m pretty sure two of them are leaving next week, once their parents sort out where they’re going instead of here.”

“So?”

“So? So, are we even going to be able to stay here? Or are we going to get sent home without even getting paid? Dude I don’t want to go home! I get so damn bored at home! There’s nothing to do!”

“There’s got to be something to do.”

“Nothing. Literally nothing. I live in a town that might as well be called Backwater, California, and my Dad is the Sheriff. Anything exciting happens, he’s usually investigating it and gets seriously pissed if I show up at crime scenes or parties that he has to break up. And have you ever tried to buy booze when your father is the guy who enforces the liquor laws? Not possible. Besides, I’ve already done all my required reading for the new semester back at college.”

“So you’ll be bored. It’s not like I’m going to be having a barrel of laughs.”

“Dude you live in New York. There is no way in hell you can be bored in that city.”

“I live in New York State, doofus. _Upstate_. I’ve only been to NYC twice, my hometown is probably smaller than yours.”

Stiles laughed at that, but conceded the point.

That afternoon they were told what would be happening - due to the fact that a large section of the forest was now a crime scene, the majority of the campers had been withdrawn. The few who were remaining were mostly kids from out of state, so the camp would be running a kind of concentrated program. The counselors were asked who wanted to stay and who was leaving - and Stiles turned to Derek.

“We might as well hang around.” he suggested, and Derek shrugged.

“Suits me. At least we’ll still get paid.”

“Okay.” So they each raised a hand and volunteered to hang around with the twenty-three campers left of the hundred and sixty who had started the summer on site.

The entire place was reshuffled, the outermost cabins were closed up and everyone was relocated to the junior dorms; a single building rather than separate structures, attached to the mess and rec hall by a covered walkway. Derek and Stiles were still paired up - they were the only boys in their own age group who had elected to hang around. They got put in the end room closest to the fire exit and instead of bunks had two double beds to sprawl out in - the room they were assigned had originally been occupied by senior counselors, guys in their late twenties who had been coming to the camp for the better part of a decade. The guys who had been in this room had scored singles in the reshuffle, thanks to a bunch of the administrators transferring to different camps in other parts of the state.

“Dude! We have our own bathroom, still!”

“What?” Derek asked from where he was planted face-down on his new bed.

“I thought we’d be using the communal showers for sure, but we’ve got an ensuite!”

“Duh.” Derek rolled slightly to one side, moving enough to look past his shoulder to where Stiles was hanging from the bathroom doorway. “Why would they make veterans use the communal showers? You know the guys who were bunked in here have double beds because they’re allowed to bring their girlfriends here on weekends, right?”

“I thought that was just a rumor.”

Derek shrugged. He didn’t know if it was true or not, but it meant he was glad that the beds hadn’t been made up when they’d arrived, it gave the illusion of a clean sleeping space when there were fresh sheets to lay on.


	4. testing the new location

Three weeks later, Derek came back into their room after his usual five mile morning run to find it empty, instead of Stiles sprawled out on his bed demanding coffee. The room was empty and neither bed was made, which was actually the usual state of affairs. Thanks to the lack of staffing the usual room inspections had kind of lapsed, so their space was a little trashed. In all honesty, Derek was surprised that they hadn’t ended up sleeping on the floor, yet, there was so much crap all over the place. He wasn’t sure how they had created so much chaos, considering they’d only had a duffel bag each in tow when they’d arrived.

Either way, he took advantage of the empty room, assuming that Stiles had gone off in search of his own coffee, for once, so he made his way to the bathroom, stripping off as he walked through their mess.

He still had his headphones in and that’s the excuse he’s sticking with as to why he didn’t hear anything until he had dropped his running shorts and stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind himself.

“DUDE!”  
“OH, SHIT!” 

Derek scrambled backwards into the closed door as Stiles’ hands flew up to cover his face, while Derek grabbed his now-naked junk and joined in on the shouting.

“WHY ARE YOU NAKED?”

“I JUST WANTED TO TAKE A SHOWER!” Derek shouted back, stumbling backwards and hitting the door, hard, with his shoulder. 

“GET THE HELL OUT!”

“I’M TRYING THE DOOR’S JAMMED!”

Stiles snatched a towel from the rack and wrapped it around himself, trying not to look at Derek where he was standing, bare-assed, twisting the doorknob so hard that Stiles was surprised it hadn’t come off in his hand.

Of course, as soon as Stiles thought that, the thing did just that.

Derek stared at the brass doorhandle gripped in his fist and then looked over at Stiles, mouth hanging open. 

“Fuck.” Suffice to say, Derek wasn’t the most eloquent person when he was freaking out.

“Can you please cover your junk before we have a conversation about exactly how fucked we are right now?” Stiles asked, shielding his eyes with his free hand, clutching his own towel at his waist so tight that his knuckles had gone white.

“Throw me a towel.” Derek sighed, setting the doorknob down next to the sink and watching as Stiles scrabbled for the other towel on the rack, eyes still squeezed shut.

“Dude, it’s nothing you haven’t seen in a locker room.” Derek commented, taking the towel from Stiles and covering himself up nonetheless.

“Yeah, but it’s kind of a different situation when we’re in a private bathroom. Didn’t you hear the shower running, man?”

“I just got back right now, you must have turned the water off before I got in the room.” Derek tucked the towel into itself so that it was somewhat secure and picked up the doorknob, examining it to see if there was a way that he could reattach it without needing any tools.

“Oh, okay. Where did you think I was, then?”

“Figured you’d gone to get your own coffee for once.”

“When I’ve got a roommate who makes it perfect every time? Like I’d bother.” Stiles scoffed.

“Shit. You think anyone could hear us if we shouted?”

“Only one way to find out.”


	5. rescued before departing

“So it took us a few hours to get rescued, can you stop complaining about it, Stiles?” Derek asked, at dinner that night, while Stiles bit into a burger like he’d never seen food before.  
“Dude. I missed breakfast and lunch, and I had to sit there with you, naked!, for six and a half hours!” he said, voice thick through the burger, and Derek rolled his eyes.  
“It’s not such a big deal, Stiles. We both had towels on, and we’re getting moved-“  
“I like our room!”  
“-getting moved to a nicer room because the only spaces still available are the old senior staff suites.” Derek told him.  
Stiles chewed, considering this.  
“Do I still have to share with you?” he asked, suspicious, and Derek nodded.  
“They - apparently our status has been changed and we’re listed as a couple, now.” he said, avoiding Stiles eyes and turning his attention to the lasagna on his plate, poking at it with his fork.  
He heard Stiles inhale what sounded like about half of his burger, coughing and spluttering as he tried not to die there at the table.  
“Sorry -what?” he demanded, voice high and scratchy. Derek risked a look up at him and could barely keep the grin from his face, because Stiles was the colour of a tomato and had spit dribbling down his chin, as well as a large chunk of half-chewed burger spat out on the plate in front of him.  
“Well, when they found us naked in the bathroom together,” he pointed out. “Not to mention the fact that our room looks like only one of the beds has been used because you treat yours like an extension of the wardrobe-“  
Stiles objected to that with a squawk.  
“I do not! I just -“ he gritted his teeth and looked up at the ceiling, as if asking for strength from some unseen deity, then dropped his head so that he could meet Derek’s eyes once again.  
“Okay, so maybe I could have been a little tidier in the room.” he conceded. “But what does that - what does it mean?” he asked, and Derek shrugged.  
“Well, there’s only one bed in the new suite. But it’s a King - does that help your delicate sensibilities, Stilinski?”  
Stiles groaned again. “Aw, man. We got stuck in a single?” he asked, and Derek rolled his eyes.  
“Yes, yes we did.” he told him. “But if you want to go and explain the situation, we can get bunked down with the fifteen year olds-“  
“No, dude, totally fine being called your boyfriend.” Stiles amended, grinning, and Derek sighed.  
“Just - no PDA, okay?” he asked, and Stiles’ grin widened.  
“Oh, why not, pookie-bear?” he asked, making Derek glower.  
“Stiles-“  
“Come on, man, you could have cleared that up like right when they told you-“  
“You think I want to get shoved in with the teenagers?” Derek demanded, and Stiles deflated a little.  
“Okay, okay. Just - dude. Are you even-?” he asked, one eyebrow raised, and Derek felt the blush rising up his neck again.  
“Uh, well. Sort of? I mean, I’m probably - bisexual?” he offered, and Stiles smiled once more.  
“Huh. Cool. Well, me too, you know.”  
Derek ducked his head, hoping that the blush turning his ears red wasn’t too obvious, and nodded.  
“Okay.”  
“Okay.”

 

-=-=-=-=-=-

The last few weeks of the summer went by a little more smoothly, no further incidents of accidental common nudity ensured by mutual knocking and awareness of each others’ location, as well as Stiles deciding to join Derek a couple of mornings a week for his run. Sleeping in the same bed wasn’t really an issue either, it was too hot at nights for either of them to seek the other out in the night, although on some of the cooler nights, Derek did find himself waking before dawn to find Stiles curled into his side.  
It just - neither of them chose to make it an issue. If they woke up tangled together, so be it. Neither of them made it weird and neither mentioned the morning wood. Usually, Derek would go into the bathroom then on his run, and Stiles would either go back to sleep or try and shower while the suite was empty.

The last week of the summer seemed to sneak up on them, and before either of them knew it, they were packing their things, ready to get on the bus to go to the airport and fly themselves home. It wasn’t until they were actually at the airport that Stiles thought of it, and pulled his phone out of his backpack.  
He’d been neglecting it, actually, barely checking it and only responding to the odd text from his best friend back home, Scott, because he was too busy with their training and hanging out with Derek. The two boys had become quite good friends, if Stiles hadn’t had Scott he’d have called Derek his best friend. 

“Hey, dude - we should at least exchange numbers. I mean, I know we’re going to college and probably won’t see each other again-“

Derek held up a hand to stop him from speaking.  
“Stiles, of course. But - I don’t have my phone.” he said, and Stiles’ mouth fell open.  
“You - what?” he asked, confused as all hell.  
“I don’t have my phone with me, my mom made me leave it behind so that I would - so that I’d get to know new people without my phone and my - without any distractions.”  
Stiles blinked a couple of times, still confused, but slowly nodded.  
“You - uh. You don’t have your phone? So how - how can we-?”  
Derek sighed and rolled his eyes.  
“Give me your arm, Stiles.” he said, dropping his backpack around to his side and digging through the side pocket until he found a permanent marker.  
Stiles held his arm out without question, and Derek took his wrist, scrawling the digits up the other boys’ forearm and then writing ‘Call me! xox!’ underneath.  
“Can’t have your friends thinking that you didn’t get lucky over the summer.” he said, grinning.  
Stiles looked down at the numbers, frowning, then snatched the marker away from Derek.  
“Just for that-“ he said, grabbing Derek’s arm and writing his own number down his forearm, then drawing a series of hearts and kisses around it, as well as ‘thanks for an unforgettable summer, -S’ beneath it.  
Derek glowered, and Stiles grinned.  
“Hey, man, fair is fair.” he said, pocketing the marker.  
Derek sighed, then reached out his unmarked arm, letting the ink dry on the other so that he wouldn’t smudge the number, hooking it around Stiles’ shoulders.  
“Well, it was pretty memorable.” he said, reeling Stiles in for a hug.

They stood there, just outside the entrance to the boarding gate for Stiles’ flight back to Sacramento - boarding was almost finished so he had to leave any moment - hugging for what felt like a long time.

Stiles held tight and he liked to think that Derek was holding on just as tight, then he heard his name being called - thankfully just his surname. Apparently not even the flight attendant was willing to tackle his first name over the speaker.

Stiles drew back slowly, almost reluctantly, and before he could talk himself out of it he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Derek’s, just for a short moment, short enough that he could deny it, before turning and walking to the gate, handing over his boarding pass and apologising to the attendant for being so late.  
He chanced just one glance back at Derek before he walked down the hallway onto the plane, and found the other man staring after him, mouth hanging open in shock.  
Stiles grinned, and waved, making Derek blink and then grin at him so wide and blinding that Stiles just wanted to run back over to him - but the door was closing.

And it was too late.


	6. home again

[text to Stiles] my sisters are pissed off that mom made me leave my phone behind

[text to Derek] why? were they bored over the summer?

[text to Stiles] no they want pictures of the hottie who wrote all over my arm

[text to Derek] they think I'm a hottie?

[text to Stiles] they also think you're a girl  
  
Stiles stared at his phone for a long moment before barking out a laugh and composing a reply

[text to Derek] well if it makes you feel any better my Dad wants your full name so he can run a background check on you

[text to Stiles] what? why!?

[text to Derek] dude he's the sheriff he just wants to look out for his little boy!

[text to Stiles] you're ridiculous

 

Leaving it at that, Derek put his phone back down and stared up at the ceiling. He'd been home a few hours, but he knew that Stiles had beaten him back - his flight was shorter by a good couple of hours. Plus Derek had to contend with the concourse at JFK and then the traffic to get himself into the city, through Grand Central and onto the train to Albany. His mom had greeted him at the station, ecstatic to see him after so long without real contact (he'd sent a few letters, but had mostly been preoccupied with, well, Stiles) and had dragged him directly to his favourite diner (well, the only diner in their town) where his sisters had teased him about how long his hair had gotten, and proceeded to interrogate him about the mysterious 'S' whose number was on his arm. 

He'd tried to hide it, pulling on a sweater, but the diner was warm in the middle of an August afternoon and he'd pushed his sleeves up after dinner. He'd managed to keep most of the number obscured, stopping Laura from getting the number and texting it immediately, and had attracted raised eyebrows from his mother, who asked him about the 'sister camp' and how often he'd seen 'this girl'.

He hadn't bothered to correct their pronoun use, just going back to his default state of quiet and somewhat secretive when it came to his romantic entanglements, eaten his pizza quietly and ordered two slices of apple pie when the waitress had come back.

"So you're only home for two weeks before you go to college!" his mother had exclaimed as they walked back home, and he shrugged.

"It's not like it's far. I wanted to go to Berkeley but no, I had to go to school in Boston!"

Laura snorted at that.

"Yeah, well, you're also living in the shitty part of Boston." she pointed out, which Derek mostly ignored. He'd picked his apartment based on proximity to his school, not proximity to Greek Row, like Laura.

"Then it's a good thing I'm not going to school with you." he told her, and she just stuck her tongue out at him.

"Don't argue!" Talia interjected, and Derek relented, even though he wanted to point out, again, that he'd gotten into his first preference school and Laura was going to the place that had been third on her list. They might be going to school in the same city, but Boston was a big place with a lot of colleges. He doubted they'd even see each other that much once they settled into classes.

"Fine. Is Dad going to be home between now and when classes start?" he asked, hoping the redirection would distract his mother from trying, again, to convince him to just live at home and commute for at least his first year.

Talia sighed, Derek clenched his fists and tried not to be disappointed, reminding himself that the measure of his disappointment was only an indication of any hope he'd had... and he should have known better than to hope.

"I'll take that as a no."

"He's stuck in London until October." she explained, and he just waved her off as they approached home, having walked the five blocks home from the diner. 

"I'm going to bed, ok? It's been a long day." he told her, skipping up the stairs and pausing on the landing. "Besides, I want to send 'S' a message to say I got home safe."

 

**Author's Note:**

> Oh yeah I'm also on [tumblr](http://annagarny.tumblr.com).


End file.
